It is too late.

I saw it all in a whirlwind of emotions
As I drowned in a rush of sensations anew
The Past's held by breath tight as all hell
As such I woke up covered in sweat
The trust was broken, sweet nightmares
Roam the plains of decay and emptiness
I swore to never ask, or feel, the same as these
Mistakes, I call them, decisions to be learnt
No longer a safe fortress, in ruins
Guess a prisioner of war cannot beg
Inner turmoil deserves to be tackled, granted
But the statement of facts opens not the doors to Heaven
Or returns to square one the promises that crumbled

Her silence filled the gaps in my mind
I once wrote her songs, poems and finer words still
All in whispers and gentle note strokes
Spoken with intent, why couldn't I know
Then, oh too late to claim her innocence
Man is not a tool but I sure felt like one
I did use, retribution through abuse
I was never one to stand quiet
The heavens wont open for me
All I wanted was a little taste
To drown in green eyes
But she deserves to be free
From the wickedness of a madman.

I hear you. Doesn't make me less disgusted.

I always found pain rather unsettling
But do not forget I found death amusing
And came to find beaty in animals decay
As they squeal for salvation that never came
I put up a miserable face and feint a plain play
Hoping they wouldn't find I was holding up
Self-satisfaction and a tiny bit of pity
That I couldn't be the only one
to have held the blade
start a fire and burn the whole World

Never seen a point in ransom
No need for a cheap stone, pile them high
And go heavy on the dirt
If I come across as bashful
You might just have run out of luck
Time is precious but limited, true
But then again
You either get infected by-a-bye
Or grow corrupted from inwards

 To be terminated.

The call of the void soon came for me
Spent, like rotten fruit in that bowl
Potencialy harmless, granted
The irritating sensorious offense
Furthermore, and for shock effect
Shook, administrate the cure
Look as the changelings assume other colours
A farse, altogether, as per prophesy tames
Tained, to the core as only time can truly corrupt

Pacify this silly notion
No compromiss, we shall never surrender
Not just yet, at least, rather, it is too late
To maintain a stance of delay as the surface
Cracked under pressure, and we chose to float
And mediate the season as we wave our good-byes
And, ah, in a hurry as you should, be.

There remains little to disappoint
Once one came to accommodate expectations
Through and throughout spectacles, tinted lents
Are as foggy as that chilly night in december
When the water as a mirror to our own world
Pity I came to be stuck here still
Grounded by earthy boundaries
As my ninfe, and the departed ahead of me
whisper It to me in senseless turns
"è immacolato e quindi silenzioso".
The horror, a thin veil of dread
Can mask too mystery
For a man is incomplete without

Close to the ideal that came to be
Slide right through, crack widen and echo
Those voices that acomplish disinfection
An amputee needs no apt serum
Or a call for arms, those that he no longer has
Upwards then, the colour of the green monster
is my conception yellow under the Sun?

Beneath my doormat
Blocked by dirt and despair
A trace of a hole that needs digging
Unfinished issue to be serialized
By deeper abstract thought, an oversight
In front of me

The enchantment ran it's due course
the track lingers beyond the horizon
and I sure came pacing backwards
Inevitablely caged within the idea
Introduced to the phenomena of wonderlust
I originated from established demonstrative drama
Speech, a certain kind of truth bursting flat out
From my chest to the left, all that is left
Could be either rage or sin
In equal measures, excited to exist, ahha
I might care to await maturity
To equate infinity with artillery
But youth is chained to a binding search
For heartbreak, qualms of the soul and
Generaly speaking
Resolutions to come anew once old
Grey and at once grim
Owned to those carried within
That could not attend this day
In hopes that
Hope molds as wax
And mends my rocky boat
To a lively port

Sound recording of my trajectory, ol' sport anew, now say hello.

Disonesty comes cordial to these
who wait and preach
Cardinal virtues that insist
In salvation from Eternal Dammnation
For a heck of a probable cause
Is ever within reach

Thirst for an uphill battle, old sport
Feint struggle to levitate doubt
Arousing and imminent, threatning
To crumble and fall, whichever comes first
Force these hands, iddle and anemic
Blank pages in the cold ol' nights
In consection, step followed by a drip
No longer a stretch to long for a breath
Release this tension from my chest
Patterns in motion, the move is latched
If fortune is to be believed
We too shall drink blood before the night gets high

And breathing is a chore
When the mundane floods the gates
Wrasp, gasp, grasp the concept little one
as you lean on the window
Yawn as you drink nectar at dawn
fruity, picky for style is such a bore
effervescent passions can linger
A toll; the lust, transition, anyway
do fairies have tails?
do monsters grant wishes?
are these voices whispers?
Or kindred spirits?
beyond this door, nevermore.

the grin wears a lie
breeze dances with the flesh
caresses scars, productive and eager
reagent, accomplice, to embrace
akin to tradition, expected
to devour the soul, willing
fell to both knees, bended
missed my arms, ablazed essences
there will be conseguences say I
as I ran to the hills and tripped over it

A mask is therefore a fixure
A mark token of caracter
Listing emotion worn like wool
Fuzzy to touch, itching to burst
what's the password. 

I hearsay that I fear to show myself. Awkward..

The wall is not a wall
But a totem of hope warped beyond
Hope
Tainted by the ideal framed through skin
Scratched in a flurry of gestures, each farther
Inside a rotten concept of trashy desolation
There is no original ideals, only new modalities
Around flashy prostitution. Plastic too can bend.
Bend

A new layer does not protect from infection
That which has not changed, much less improved
We already been there, taking candles for viability
The hot wax for playthings, and before we knew it
Gone. Animals too can be impatience, and we feel
The same, running it down to the minimal effect.
In fact, I infer by particulars and sinisters frames
In my eyes we do not shout, we embrace doubt publicly
To float anew in the dauntingly high veranda
Nauseated with ourselves.

I talk in riddles not for I might be only one
But for many could take my place
And come up to the very same conclusions
Helping none, whatsoever, to improve my condition
This enfermity it consumes, ravenous plague of conscious resolve
I want to be somebody, rather, it becomes therefore awkward
Society, as it should, and by principle throws me that low baller'
"Now, now, slow your roll
Keep your head low
Your life is a joke
Don't make this awkward"
Cannot say I disagree. 

Bitter laughter rings in my brain
Or somewhere damm near it
Now that I achieved the bliss
Of ever wishful solitude
What comes next remains a mistery
For I got no one to contradict for way of passage
Direction or otherwise guidance, please send help

I used to care

If in order to recreate the momentum
A silver lining before we turn coats
To the way we were raised, choosing to embrace
Each other inbetween all the lost, the anger
Separation bounces these and those like toy
Soldiers of fate, of misfortune and gold
To crumble upon, such as my atrophy
No panic lingers beyond the necessary
To feed one last charade, a rather cute nostalgia
Effective and optional, and one I would repeat
Without objecting more then enough to make it obvious
How I would trade the good for the bad
To impossibility commit myself to repetition
And the irony of a multitude of destruction and charity
For no lesser evil then enforcing what I believe to be
Just that, be truthful and realistictly so dubious
At best. On my lesser days the confidance weakens

And so, forward, came proof
That early came what sought after went
A day without conflict, that we chose to erase
We already been there, and glimples
Off with tranquility, we chase soul adjectives
Meaning, alas, tell, rather, explain it
To a better man, I shall begone
Past the wall that divides us
And now, sea and land apart
It feels the same, if I am to be honest
I see it still, every now and again
Frame by frame
Sinister images of what could had been

Realizations that drag on
Courage that fates immediatly
For current changes for no man
And I used to care more
And when, on what I assumed
To be good intent I was pointed out
Of my shortcomings
My very soul gave in
I have given up
Running it down
I feel the same
But then again
Something fell apart
I still see it in their eyes
Kindness and hope
And so I wait
For the current to change

In hindsight, I could admit
In want of precaution and superstition
In equal measures a sound reasonsing
To linger in ghastly depravation
To an ideal of a wrong advise
From myself to me mind, no harm done.

Restless nights under the vigilant present of light
That would confort me to a swift lullaby
Stranger things have happened since then
Now I have came to realize I cannot save the World
I reckon I am still afraid of the shadows
But the sun burns my eyes

Disconcerning how self-assured
Of an everlasting impeding doom
Senseless and chained to the walls
Shallowed the key, already well tamed
Devoid of a survival instint my friend
Touched by misery to such an extend
I struggle to come to terms with
You have changed, and not for my sake

I identify as crazy other's that iluminate my wrongs
My shortcomings and my failings
To erase my presence, or at the very least
My malice and selfishness
Reduce it really, let's not to overly ambicious
Anything to lesser the risk of self-destruction
Anything to be able to say once again
I am coming home.

Light the stage, ablaze forefather with manufactured might.

As the face contorns
Whiskers tremble, at the very least honest
Cannot contain this moment inside of your head
I break shells, thread missed the line of a breakpoint
Flash news I lost the game, again.
Wait, no, stop. Forget about your pain
I endorse violence. I am ever so angry at Life.
and I refuse to live it for you're the frozen one.

It is incredible how naive youth should be
precious, and above the smallest precatious
I did not get shame, and dulled over repetition
fuck being straight edge, I seen cuts run seas afloat
As I stood taller over ages, income spent and hard fought, for.
Wait, no, stop it. I came to realize there is no need to apologize
But is is ever so nice and soathing. Comparable to coming up
To my funeral to see, understanding alas, couldn't shake the thought
Mistakes too could be experimentation
But I had a choice. And I could had known better.
It is never the If's that criple. But the need to amend
Frozen in a past rust and spent
Wait, no, stop it. I do not believe in lies.
"No way to make it right". I did it my way.

It hurts to be average
And whenever the melodrama hits harder
Beneath the ground of reason and common sense
On a free fall to decay and confusion
Who is to say I deserve to be shown how?

I am no King
or a heir to the kingdom come
And all around me specters roam
Funny though, they cannot track time
Or tell it otherwise amid the sun, etcetera.
I deviate, granted, of my purpose to travel
Clicking drinks and clinging to the plot
I land to stand, for I stood to fight
For a cause to be discussed if lucky enough
To triumph and reciprocate, another day. 

Attend to the extend of my failings

Is the virtues of self-discovery
As volumous as we perceive it to be?
Did we stroke a vine of livelihood
perhaps during the day, we could be a-ok
No internal bleeding, ringing a futile alarm
Draining someone else's chances of reconciliation
At night, as we waited for a sign
We managed to stop counting the days

What could open this cage
On which I have consolidated my devotion
How can it be, intermutual and falling through
I had a plan, and she a change to be set in time.
Can't I truly kill time? Everything always changes and then turns around..
Beyond that lapse, over each obstacle that I left behind


If I swore I do apologize
As it is expected and long overdue
Emocional, of sorts, honest to the God's
Both in my dreams and close to me
Masters of my soul, destiny and cell
Are you calling me?

A rat in the sewers, a pet in an empty house. A meal to the cat and the hungry, alike.

I could, hold the light within this breath
Take a step back, an emphasis on the chaotic
Snare the concept in the past, seduce the fools
Killing them with reminisces of sweeter liars
A bolt to induce a rapid sense of urgency
To shower those in need with the causation of choice
Fuck, now we tunnel down on drama
To shower for I seek cleansing
I name it my honour, an habit for wardrobe
Acess faith, invigilate method of conduct as conduits
To shower out of necessity for privacy
A pusuit of an hobby, perhaps a secret singer's pleasure
Now we second guessing agonies and wonders
We envelop the lamp in warm arms that eclipse
Chances to resist, desist and surrender to my equality
Remind me, to shower to uphold a moment of serenity
As I think of the wonderful prison industry
And the academic failures that link to indoor conspiracy
What I do not understand fills many a dark holes and corner
You forget only the mailman is entitled to carry a message
Burn your figurine, a disgusting atribute of hope
Crush that crux, it irritates my skin
Alas, since when did we turn to media for the soles
Unto which my shoes fit a purpose?
Others walk on barefeet alone if need be
We came not to realize we fell prey to vampires
Bloodsuckers all around
Hey, monsters already rose from underneath the bed
Are you about to let them kill me?

Fate made for a simpleton's script

Shuffle the deck, just right
Set aside a trump card, sensing defeat
One pulls another stunt, from the grave
Almost, certain, that we haven't seen your best
All we give, in, to stand in the ground under the weight
Existing to siege momentum, cut down doubt
Before it takes root
So, shall we wait?

Some face up to faith as a power source
I hope, for our sake we write this charade off
Or we risk the vice of stagnation
Is it embarassing to feel optimisticly
confortably numb? 
I rather hallucionate, vivivly at that darling
Then be a delusional hopeless case of serviture
Marred by pain and tangled in lesser escapes
I cherish my dreams and wave at them
Recognizing both, where I came from
And where, should I stop, I was heading to
A fucked up script, but alas, the only one I know

Wonderful, sensations can also let us to a crash and burn
Terror for fear we shan't ever rise anew
A fenix darling, the human capacity for laughter
Regardless of tragedy and anomaly alike
And for those who came near the abyss
but looked back, tripping foward off the ledge?
A toast, a salutation that denies forgiveness for sin
But provides confort in rememberance
There is a lesson to be learned
And if hope and wishful thinking
Should provide, a future generation to guide

Ah, ha. Least we let it escape
From the corner of the world to my reptil tongue
Astrology contributes to inspire liars
But baby, what I need to do and what I need doing
Is to start a religion and complement those lips
Cursing the fact they aren't yet mine

The month grows cold

Forsaken morning glory
Casting spells, deviance to mark a point
Generally speaking, plain fuckery
I would sell my secrets
But I cannot pronunciate jokes
Without shiver and penance in my spine
For a moral compass, no two ways about it.

I came to pick up the habit
Of scratching my wrists
Tapping the fingers in solace
That my nerves would erupt
Through supersticion and shame, exposed
Knock on wood, it shan't be a rouse
Of acting cold towards, what was it again?

Absolutely maddening growing old
When one sees rogues at every turn
Devils in disguise, beckoning at the shadows
So far, ah, oh, ha, mhm..
To course skin through fingertips
A sign of life, pleasing in commodity
In need of a new lead, a plan to follow up
To the truth in someone else's eyes...

The moon was gracious and that is alright with me

For lack of better words in order to reach
A secondary result, refuting my shortcomings
Have you ever pondered
What could had been if Time was elastic
To extend any particular moment where one
Hasty in response or the tone of his voice
Mused speed and by disregarding finesse
Lost all but the timing of eloquence
A clap-trap, granted, by order of rash exhaustion
Exalted by exposing secrets, open for the crowd to decide

Alas, silence speaks wonders sometimes
But, then again, so does anyone's face as of late
John Does, with grayed hair and faces
Baggy eyes, their spirits a reflection of a faint sense of urgency
I cannot deny I too would rather pray for absolution
Were my sons and daughters content to walk this earth without a heart
To you hear it? An enervating vibe of imminence?
Can we uphold this movement, up-keeping a religion
That ignores the warning signs, to take more then we can give
For we would do so much better on our own
As long as technology impulses us further

To replace the Maker
Emancipation and turn the world concepts upside down
To draft the fellowship into chaos
There is word on the streets, war and blood on the horizon
Ah! But equality should follow the tragedy
For post-turning everyone (else) basically into my enemy
There would be no one else to rule beside me
Alas, our very essence and souls are under pressured

To turn my doubts into violence, friends
Is both easy and a provokingly smooth transaction
Gold for lies. Lives for means. Excuses for prayers and thoughts.
Aware that the feeling, good, lingers upstream in a bodily holy communion
It does feel good, for vice is tempting and broke better men before
My principles cannot compare, caught wind of a mere breeze
and off they gone, "where were you?".
I might tire of making up my mind
The moon shall stay a gracious idol, and that is alright with me

Held my hang, cherished my touch.

Ragged cloth, weaken spirits

I was so sure we truly fucked it up that time

Tripped over my own ego, snared by an easier road

The distance stands equal to yesterday

Childhood amnesia? I disagree

I could be merry and breeze through

Hard work, blood, sweat and tears

For it rains, even indoors, tonight

On special occasions, such as this

A shared birthday, birthright, connecting

Damaged pride, injuries that open up

Whenever words get exchanged pound by pound

It got me thinking

After all is settled dust and done

Dawn and sunrise shall follow

Once more, regardless and inconsequential

For I matter so very, very little to most

And that is quite alright

I find charming to be taught and schooled

For idols of mine not of old in shambles

Familiar voices, sweet adoring voices

They talked of memories 

As if to warn me, I rest assured

Preoccupied for my health, bless their souls

I fear not to be missing out

For I am a man on a mission

Never to be engulfed on that which is wicked

And achieve, through action and virtue

Something I can take good measure and rest upon

As the worthy soil and show of those who made it possible

What then to make them realize

Should the flesh falter

And my tones tremble

For I am a mere mortal and weary from travel

And experimentation alike

I shan't give up yet, furthermore, ever

To try to make a change and generate it

To inspire and produce providence

To some, never simply to captivate through necessity

Never that, far too plain and liable to sin

Not exactly what I suppose

You came here today to hear my dear?

Well..
"I don't really wanna be the bitch that gets shit and bottles it
Deliberately swallows it, one elss contender, life
They'll provide the documents to make believe you're gonna fit
Spend your time as a militant, self-help perfection hype 

We can make this real
Already tried to go for gold
Let's go! For the stories that remain untold."

If I talk, it is for self-sufficient entertainment. If I listen, well, charmed I suppose.

You look me with such maddening eyes
Trembling in fear, accusing me with dead-pan eyes
Transfixed, doing what is I thought right
I cannot amend for turning this water bland
Unavoidable, fine, mediocre onto stampeding my growth
God, let it be next time that I am allowed to get it right

I came to thinking, restless at early dawn
As my breath grew shorter
And slow
Then fast, rapid even
Suffocating and out of rhythm
Running might be the death of me
Shaping up to it at the very least
I cannot deny however how real
This dirt bed feels to me
and so, I came to thinking
About the shortcomings
and the great ventures
The role-models
uneven and without equal
The vastness of what's to come
And what is there, left and up for grabs
What will I learn? From whom?
Truly interesting.
Those that intervene in my regard
Shall make or break my days success
Those at bay, navigating the shadows
Unrewarded, never without merit
If anything, I bow down
one does not do what he pleases
Without piercing a pin through a butterfly
And feeding the wildfire until one is itself ash.

Send me a guardian angel, mine has retired.

The ol' farmer boy course was steep
Leaning to the reminiscent type sort of ways
Daydreaming a landscape embellished with fairness and grass
Carelessness force fed the sheep into madness
For chaos filters through enigmatic and obscure circumstances.
They went and fell on the crack
Now they hang by the rope meant to keep them safe
Their voices unheard. Here, a guardian sleeping; their future extinct.

Children, as they say, j'accuse!, say the darnest things!
Tongues far too loose, hungry and earnest minds
Filled with questions that should remain unanswered
For we already possess the mold, the final solution
Know this and repeat after me. Fact, historical, period.

I worry, truly, I do.
As a common fellow, frail, man, at that.
Were I allowed, in this moment of weakness
To roll through the fire of embarrassment
To commit the offense of declaring a genuine bankrupt
For my soul, from time to time at least, cracks and gives in
Emotions afloat, abrupt even, fearful out of present and past doubts
Failure, or rather, that possibility is weary and heavy.
If I am made to choose where to step
Will I be ok with that?